A Secret Hidden From You

Chapter 9: Secrets inside Yellowed Pages

Hello everyone! I know I'm a chapter behind and I was going to do a double post but the other chapter didn't get typed...It'll be up sometime this week, probably after my chem test on Tuesday. I thought it would be appropriate to update this story on my one year anniversary of being on this site as it was my very first one. :D Please enjoy this new chapter!

RING! RING! RING!

Matthew groaned and buried his head deeper within the pushiness of his pillows hoping to drown out the metal on metal clang of his alarm clock. As much fun as he had last night, he wanted his full nights rest. It wasn't his fault that Francis had wanted to stay the whole night and into the morning at his "little gathering" of his so called friends. In fact, Matthew would hardly call the spectacular event "little". It was a huge affair, a ball at one of the neighboring city's castles that attracted rich party goers from all around the area.

He remembered walking through the large crystal doors and up the velvet covered stairs of the main staircase. Together the two walked into the largest dancing rooms he had ever seen, but it wasn't like he had seen anything like it before though. He could still see the light reflecting off the crystals hanging from the massive chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, the vivid colors dancing across the glass window panes. The plates he ate off of marveled him, as they were composed of glass with intricate designs delicately etched into them. Matthew also had his first taste of alcohol, though it came in the form of a very elegant flute of champagne, the sweetness of the carbonated drink still lingered in his mouth. The food was absolutely mouth watering and had never tasted anything much like it, even in Francis' abode, though he attributed it to being a servant than an actual occupant of the home.

Once he and Francis had their fill, he remembered the flamboyant man running off into the crowd of dancing guests, only to come back with a silver haired man with red eyes. He was introduced as Gilbert Beilschmidt, a long time friend of Francis. Matthew was surprised that Francis failed to mention to the other that he was a servant. Instead, he was introduced a foreign friend staying in the Bonnefoy mansion while on a business trip. Gilbert laughed loudly and held out his hand while Matthew shyly shook it. Once again, the man named Gilbert cackled, saying something to the effect of "Intimidated by my awesomeness now are we?"

For the rest of the night, the three stuck together making an interesting trio of sorts. Matthew watched and played his part of the shy wall flower looking after his friends as the other two worked on getting drunk off the seemingly never ending champagne.

As the night drew to an end and the hours of dawn quickly approached, Matthew remembered somehow convincing an incredibly intoxicated Francis that it was time to go home. He managed to flag down their carriage driver and as he went to fetch their ride, Matthew sat with Francis, looking up into the sky at the twinkling stars. It was then he felt his companion's eyes upon him and he turned his face, only to come face to face with fogged blue eyes.

"What is it? Is there something wrong?"

The other continued to contemplatively stare at him, unnerving Matthew to where the younger started to fidget under the intense gaze. In the darkness, he could hear the clap-clapping sound of hooves against pavement as their ride home drew near. As he turned around to announce the arrival of their ride, he had an unexpected surprise.

Out of nowhere, Francis grabbed hold of his head, locking their lips together in a kiss. Stunned by the other's action, Matthew held still, eyes wide open and shock clearly plastered on his face. As the sound of hooves drew nearer, he managed to come to his senses and tore his now beet red face away from Francis, who in the moonlight looked rather sad at the loss of connection even though Matthew pegged it as an illusion. Once the carriage pulled up, he never felt so relieved for a distraction from the previous events. He helped his inebriated friend into the horse drawn vehicle and they were off back towards their castle.

RING! RING! RING! RI-

Finally tired of the obnoxious sound coming from his clock, Matthew flung out his hand from under the covers and slammed it on the time keeper, successfully shutting it off and silencing it. Awake and aware of his surroundings, Matthew sat up in bed and stretched until the lovely popping of his lower back filled his ears. He moved off his bed and got dressed in his normal attire, ready for breakfast and work, although the awkwardness of last night still lingered in the forefront of his brain. He would rather avoid Francis for the day while the events of yesterday settled down but he knew it wouldn't happen.

Just as he was getting ready to leave his room, he noticed a piece of parchment lying at the foot of his door. Curious as to why it was there, he reached down and picked it up. Unfolding the letter, he began to read the delicate writing belonging to his master.

Matthew,

I'm sure that you had fun yesterday, as I know I did~I don't remember too much but judging from the fact that I'm here and not there at Gilbert's place, I'm going to say thanks for bringing me home. You probably have a hangover the size of town…

Matthew put a hand to his mouth to stop the small laugh he let out from becoming louder. He had a hangover? Not from the small amount of champagne he had drunk. Francis on the other hand…The young man shook his head and looked back to the letter in his pale hands.

Anyway, because of that and because you accompanied me to the party, I'm giving you another day off. Don't worry about your duties; I've already got it all taken care of.

~Francis~

He let out a sigh. After all the trouble he went through with getting dressed and surviving the onslaught of the clock, he didn't have to work. With a groan, he shut his door and walked back to his bed, ready to catch a few more z's. Suddenly, he felt the soft carpet on his face and after a while realized that he fell. He rolled onto his back and sat up, looking for what he could have caused his plummet. There, right next to his left foot was an old grey book…The book! The one he had discovered up in the library yesterday!

His eyes widened in recognition of the old thing and he crawled over towards it. He gently picked up the aged book and scampered onto his bed, getting comfortable as he did so.

"I might as well read it since it's here. I wonder what it's about." He examined the covering of the book, flipping it over looking at it from all angles. "There's not title on the cover or the spine…"

All the more curious, he opened the volume and began to read. Amazingly, it was a novel about the town and its surrounding area, just the type of book he had been searching for. After a good hour of analysis, he began to doubt the fact that the town had anything to do with why Francis went thought the strange periodic cycles. That was, until he turned the page.

…During the mid 1600's, the town was effected by suspicious vampire like activity. Many villagers would go missing for days, only to have their lifeless body recovered days later. The complexions of the found bodies were always the same, bone pale skin with two holes in their neck. Though most were found stone dead, there were a few who would miraculously escape from the clutches of their vampire captor. These people would be near death, their will to live gone as well as something the people called the " life energy." Of the few who did survive, they weren't alive for very long. Records state that after three months of their arrival back in town, each survivor transformed into one of the blood sucking beasts and would prey upon the villagers. Not soon after those first attacks, the villagers drove those away who were infected back into the woods to die.

It is because of these numerous vampires that the town soon obtained its reputation of being the vampire capital of the world. Due to its large vampire population, many so called "vampire hunters" ventured into town, all claiming that they were the ones who would rid the good people of the vermin that terrorized their streets at night during certain parts of the year. All would venture bravely into the woods and none would ever come out. This, combined with the large vampire population is what lured a young man and his family into town, a young man who would acclaim greatness and prosperity in this very place.

His name was Bonnefoy, first name unknown as he never went by it, and he moved his family here in 1667. Upon arrival, he claimed that he would put an end to the curse that fell upon the village. Many laughed at him and doubted his claims. Fired by the mockery and faithlessness of the citizens, Bonnefoy vowed that he would rid the town of its vampires and prove everyone wrong. Taking up a room at one of the local inns, he left his wife and two children for a total of three days, in which he disappeared and wasn't heard from.

As the first and second days flew by, many began to doubt the ability of the young hunter and soon all believed that he too had been transformed into a beast. But, as the third day came to an end, he appeared, the head of a terrifyingly gruesome creature in his possession. A mark on the creature's head signified it as the main vampire, the one who had started the mess. As he entered town, those who had been turned into the blood sucking creatures appeared too, normal and completely human once more.

The town hailed him as a hero and was given money and eternal fame.

There, the book abruptly stopped mentioning this Mr. Bonnefoy. Matthew was troubled. Why did it just stop? Surely a text on the history of the town would mention more about their hero, wouldn't it?

Disappointed and feeling defeated, Matthew closed the book. In a sudden revelation, he remembered the room he had found when he was first brought to the mansion, the room with all the portraits and old artifacts. Judging by all the stuff he saw and remembered, he concluded that it would be the best place to inquire more information on this old relative of his master.

It took him a good while, but he was able to find the corridor that led to the room. As he stood in front of the door and grasped the handle, doubt and guilt started to flood his mind. He knew he probably shouldn't be snooping around in Francis' private life but he cared about his master. He wanted to help him, he wanted to know why he was subjected into getting sick all the time, and why people kept disappearing. In other words, Matthew wanted to know more about him than what he put out.

"It's either now or never," he whispered as he twisted the knob and slowly pushed open the door.

The room was unbelievably dark and musty. As he tried to find a switch, Matthew breathed in dust and started a coughing fit. He assumed that the room hadn't been opened in years and that he had inhaled probably half a century of dust. After his fit died down, he found the little device for the lights and flipped it on, flooding the room with illumination from a small, plain chandelier from the ceiling.

He gasped as he looked around. There was the painting of the young fourteen year old, still where he had seen it before. Large amounts of books were scattered all over the place and the furniture was all covered in dust. Starting his search, Matthew began with the painting that had drawn him to the room in the first place.

Walking over to it and lightly picking it up, he examined the faded work of art. The boy within its frame resembled Francis in almost every detail, except his face. The boy was younger than the real Francis obviously so his face was much rounder and child like. He had blue eyes that Matthew assumed would have matched the ocean blue of his master's as well as the straw yellow of his hair had it not been for the sheer age of the work. Had the painting been in its prime, he would have guessed that it was Francis in the picture. Looking for a date, he flipped the artwork over and scanned the back.

"This can't be right…the picture is over one hundred years old. Either that or the boy isn't Francis. It can't be a coincidence…can it? He resembles him so much…"

Puzzled by his findings, Matthew decided to look around some more. He gently placed the picture back where it had originally rested and started to look about. At first he leafed through some of the molding books. Most were of trivial subjects, native plants and animals and some on vampire hunting, but nothing that could help him in his wild search for information. He managed at one point to wrestle out an old diary and made a mental note to return back to the book as he set it aside on one of the rickety, round tables in the room. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention. There, behind one of the smaller and shorter bookshelves by the wall was something pointy and dark sticking out.

Intrigued, he gently pulled on the dark, sturdy thing out from behind the shelf. To his amazement, he discovered that it was another framed painting but this time it was of a man, a woman, and their two children, one of whom was the boy in the previous one. At first glance, he assumed that the man was the Mr. Bonnefoy that the earlier book had mentioned as he did fit the description (blonde with stubble on his chin and striking blue eyes) and the woman to be his wife. The two boys must have been the sons they had brought with them when they moved to the town.

As with the other painting, Matthew flipped it around and searched for a date but to his disappointment, there was none to be found. Undeterred, he turned it around again and after some time, judged the painting to be older than the portrait. He based his conclusions on the appearance of the lookalike Francis. In the family portrait, the boy was much younger than the other one in the lone picture, thus making the family painting older. At the end of his inquiry, Matthew gently placed the canvas back where he had found it, sliding it slowly and carefully behind the bookshelf.

Overall satisfied with the fruits of his little search, he walked over to journal he had uncovered earlier and tucked it under his arm. Once he opened the door, breathing in the clean and fresh air, he looked out and surveyed his surroundings, as he still felt a little bad for rummaging through Francis' private stuff. After concluding that the coast was clear he hastily walked to his room, excited, hopeful, and a little nervous about what he would discover in the old book.

As you can see, I'm kind of awkward with any kind of love scenes (kissing is included) so any tidbit of advice would help.

Please, please please review! It would help me a lot in improving my writing ability! I'll give you a heart if you will! ~ (I love this thing )